today was infused with an energy so strong
that you could see crackling electricity in the air.
the energy settled and slowed down
until it flowed like molasses, calm and languid.
soft, languid cloud,
reflects on the still lake;
- made for each other!
to be assured
of a roof above
and a mother
who will cook
for me lovingly,
nothing is so
I am the human
cat this fading
and I may soon
the days fling
away like speeding
scenery from a
I sing my
shine storm shadow heave sordid sky
beat your diamond rain and milk sweet
delirious black blue moaned symphony
drive woman drive rough skin delicate
run spring drunk light panting velvet
watch you play your sea on raw bed
live rust sun mad rose-tinted like moon
you have chocolate drool ache
mother I never did like those sad
arms all dressed in red and furious
but see no wild woman feels less
sit or go but let what is be is
eat one picture a day, smear languid
love with finger
flick you kind wand kazzoo away
and please whisper smooth scream
through apparatus from forest
lather you life white bubble like
use all ugly love as fertilizer then cry
bitterly and pour frantic sleep into
lazy garden moss soft as a pillow
upon sacrilegious world thought
swim water through silken sheets
and rock it fluff puppy
you are an enormous exquisite honey ship
lick it fresh juice sweet cream
rip your winter above want
and rave on brave pilgrim
train of thought ripping through bleak December storm......guideline for full heart ..keeping the vibration high in the midst of crazy world madness
I have never been one for the rays of the sun and their fulfilling warmth – not I. I have only ever loved the cadence of the raindrops; the clashing symbols that are lightning; and the reverberating basses and baritones that are thunder. Such sounds that embrace my limbs and wrap me wholeheartedly in solitude that I find it comforting – a haunting and beautiful orchestra of but three instruments. My love for rain is nothing but earnest, if only because it reminds me of the comforts of my home. Lavish hills of green that gently fade into the languid sands of the seashores on strips of the southern coast, and abrupt drops over sheer cliffs to the sea-worn rocks towards the northern coast; and, ah, the copious forest land, with towering trees warped in crackling bark and hanging vines, swaying with the winds in the east.
© Shane Leigh
when I say the wind blows
you already know
but how do the leaves portend
emerald on the end
or grasping to the limb?
If the Love is Lost, when?
feelings were ample
yet, when unplugged they limp lame
sentiment in lieu of visceral slanguage;
Who needs a Heart when a record can be Broken?
i think therefor iThoughts
Depress into cracked lead
and bled red into inkwell;
gun shots have more potent stocks
tragically hip to be so square ingots
what gracious melodies and languid lives
battered idioms with only one just is to bear
how Sad their flirtatious Ness affair
with Pain must fin' ish and putrefy,
those believers in Death will die
hail a Hashtag worthy of
for phoenixes are found everyday
prostrate your Poetry for posthumous
apply the alembic of alteration
Heal our Hashtag heathen history
Hate the Hashtag
#love #life #sad #pain #depression #thoughts #death #sadness #heartbreak #lost
You already Know what I'm getting at...
It is time to wake up
from the languid daydreams
that once I treasured so.
The place that used to be a haven,
an escape from life’s banality,
now feels like a gilded cage.
The mind wanders, untethered,
through sunlit corridors of indolence
pushing to see how far it can go.
Tantalizing me with possibilities,
never reality, this limbo
is only good for the occasional vacation.
NaPoWriMo Day #26
Poetry form: Tercet
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